“Do you trust me?” he asks, searching my eyes.
“Yes.”
The response is automatic but sincere.
“Stay here.” He pulls his sweats over his erection and disappears into the bedroom, returning just seconds later with a camera in hand. “If you’re not comfortable with this, tell me, but you have no fucking idea how insanely hot you look right now, and I want you to see it. I want you to see how perfect you are.”
He wants to take my picture? Now?
My first instinct is to say no.
I mean, I’m not stupid. I’ve heard the horror stories from others. Those photos could wind up anywhere.
But this is Winston.
He wouldn’t hurt me. All he wants to do is save me.
“Take it,” I tell him before I can back out.
The sound of his camera shutter fills the otherwise quiet room.
I just stand here, unsure what to do.
He peeks at me over the lens, that same hunger still in his eyes. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Drew.”
The way he’s looking at me…I almost believe him.
He snaps a few more photos, then sets his camera on the living room table.
“Get on the couch and spread your legs.”
I all but rip my shorts down, stumbling my way to the cushions.
Winston stays where he is, hand on his cock, watching me as I open my thighs for him.
Waiting.
“Wider.”
I go wider.
“Don’t fucking play games with me, Drew. I said wider.”
My cheeks flush, but I do it.
I’ve never been so exposed in front of a guy before.
I’m embarrassed, but with the way Winston’s staring at me like I’m his next meal, I’m excited.
Slowly, he ambles toward me, taking his time, fingers still wrapped around his cock.
Holding my stare, he drops to his knees, and my clit pulses with anticipation as he lowers his head.
Only he doesn’t bury his face between my legs like I hoped he would.
Instead, he kisses my stomach.
He kisses my scars.
He kisses away all my insecurities.
Kisses my heart.
Just when I think it couldn’t get any better, he kisses my clit, and I nearly combust at the soft, simple touch.
He peers up at me, blue eyes still ablaze.
“I’m going to eat your pussy now, Drew.”
He braces a hand on each thigh, pushing my legs apart even farther, and finally tastes me for real.
I melt into oblivion.
Or the couch.
They both feel the same right now.
His licks are slow, purposeful. He takes his time teasing me, lavishing me. He switches between gentle strokes, sucking my clit into his mouth, and flicking his tongue against me like he’s tapping it.
Every time I think I’m about to explode, he walks me off the ledge, pulling away and dipping his tongue into my opening, only to start all over again.
I’ve never had someone eat me out with such attention before.
“Winston…” I whine. “Let me come.”
He laughs, and the vibration against my clit feels fucking magical.
“Fine, but only because I’m selfish and can’t wait another minute to feel your pussy wrapped around my dick.”
This time, he lets me leap over the ledge.
And I soar.
Higher than I’ve ever soared before.
When I’ve finally fallen back to earth, Winston sits back on his haunches, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grabs my hands, helping me stand. Then he turns me around, gently pushing me toward the cushions. I fall onto my knees, bracing my hands on the back of the couch as I listen to him get rid of his sweats and his shirt.
I gasp as I feel his hard cock brush against my ass when he situates himself behind me.
“I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, Drew. Next time, I’ll take my time inside you.”
I nod.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Winston, I just spread my legs wider than I did to birth my son and let you eat my pussy for fifteen minutes. I think we’re beyond being okay with this.”
He chuckles, nibbling at my shoulder. “Fair enough.”
The head of his cock pushes against my hole and he lets out a string of cuss words as he starts to stretch me.
I groan as he slowly—painfully slowly—pushes all the way in.
“I thought you promised this would be hard and fast. This feels weak and slow to me.”
He growls at my smartass comment, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks so hard I’m sure they’ll be bruised tomorrow, and he starts pumping into me just like he promised.
Having Winston inside me is unlike anything I’ve felt before.
It feels good. Too good.
Like the kind of good I could get really used to really fast.
We find a rhythm, our thighs slapping together so loudly that there is no way Sully doesn’t hear us.
But I don’t care.
In this moment, all I care about is this.
Because nothing will ever be this good again.
“I wasn’t kidding about this being fast,” Winston cautions. “I’m really close.”
“I don’t care. I am too.”
“Touch yourself,” he tells me, biting at my shoulder again. “Rub your clit.”
I do, and I feel him start to tighten.
“Don’t pull out,” I say. “I’m on birth control.”
“Shit! Fuck!” His pace slows. “I forgot a condom.”
“I don’t care. I’m clean.”
“I am too.”
I know he is. I know he wouldn’t dare enter me if he weren’t clean. I trust him.
His pace quickens again, and I rub short circles over my clit, chasing that high for the second time tonight.
The orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and my pulsing pussy is enough to send Winston over the edge too as he slams into me harder than before, burying himself to the hilt and filling me with his cum.
“Motherfucker,” he mutters, resting his head between my shoulder blades, his breaths coming in short spurts.
“Literally,” I say.
He laughs. “Shut up.”
We rest for a minute, letting our breathing return to normal, then untangle ourselves from the mess we’re in.
We don’t say anything as I toss my camisole back over my head and pull my underwear back on, trying to keep my legs as closed as possible. I can already feel the evidence of what we just did dripping between my thighs.
We’re silent as he pulls his sweats back on, tucking his softening cock away.
The reality of what just happened between us is setting in, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s regretting it.
I’m not, though I wish I were.
It would make it easier when I leave.
Make it so I don’t want it again, but I already do.
I glance over at Winston, and he grins at me.
“What?” I ask, unable to stop my lips from pulling up at the corners.
“It was totally the gray sweats, wasn’t it?”
* * *
I can still feel him the next morning.
My muscles are tender, ass cheeks aching from where he dug his fingers into me, and my vagina feels like it was fucked…hard.
And yet, I love every single sensation.
“I had the craziest dream last night,” Winston says, crawling back into bed after brushing his teeth and checking on Riker, who is still sound asleep at eight AM. “You got mad at me for doing you a total solid, and then you called me a lazy piece of shit. You sucked my cock, I ate your pussy, and then we fucked—raw.” He rubs his hand over his face. “What a wild night.”
I smack his naked chest. “Shut up, you ass.”
“Come on,” he coaxes, rolling over me until I’m pinned under him, fitting himself bet
ween my legs like he belongs there. And, okay, maybe he does, and the confidence he exudes is enough to awaken a throbbing between my legs. “Let’s do it again.”
“Let’s not.”
“Why? You can’t tell me it wasn’t good.”
“How would I know? It was just a dream.”
He pushes his already hard dick into me. “You’re a tease.”
“No, a tease would wake you up with a blow job and then not let you finish. I’m not that mean.”
“I mean, you did suck my cock last night and not let me come in your mouth.”
“That was entirely on you, buddy.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Fine. You win this round.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “What’s on the agenda today? I mean, after morning sex and all.”
“Well, first, there will be no morning sex. Second, we have to work.”
He groans, rolling off me.
Pop.
There is no mistaking that the noise coming from his body didn’t sound right.
“Winston? What the fuck was that?”
He’s lying there, jaw clenched, cradling his shoulder.
“It was nothing,” he lies.
“Nothing never means nothing,” I say, repeating his words back to him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s just my shoulder.”
“Obviously,” I say, sitting up. “What exactly is wrong with it?”
“It’s not a big deal.” He rolls away from me. “It just does that sometimes.”
“It is a big deal.” I pull at him, trying to get him to roll back my way. “Come on.”
“No.”
“Yes. Talk to me.”
“Stop!” he yells.
I freeze.
He glowers at me. “Just fucking stop. Leave it alone.”
Slowly, I pull my hands away. “Okay.”
He stares straight ahead, and I know he regrets his yelling instantly and wants to apologize.
He knows it won’t do any good.
Instead, he leans over. I turn away from his kiss, and it lands on my cheek.
He sighs, head resting against my temple. “I’m gonna go shower.”
His voice is hushed, like he’s trying to make up for shouting without actually saying he’s sorry.
But it’s not enough. We both know it.
When I don’t respond, he pushes from the bed with one last lingering look and shuts himself into the bathroom.
I don’t breathe again until I hear the water turn on.
I want to storm in there after him. I want to force him to tell me what’s wrong. I want to help him. I need to help him.
Just like he needed to help me.
It’s not fair that he gets to butt into my life when I don’t want him to but I can’t butt into his.
He said things would be different after, but this feels an awful lot like more of the same.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pop off the bed and charge into the bathroom like he’s done to me so many times now.
I jerk open the shower curtain.
“What the—” He jumps, and I try hard not to let my eyes drop to his cock.
“You said it’s supposed to be different now. This isn’t fucking different, Winston.”
“I said different between us, as in we know what the other looks like naked now. But this is my business, Drew. Not yours.”
“You put your dick inside of me without protection. You made your business my business in that moment. That isn’t a line you cross with just anyone.”
He doesn’t say anything.
He knows I’m right.
“Now, for one time in your life, will you please just stop being so damn annoying and tell me what’s going on with you? It’s bad, isn’t it?” I ask.
“Hurts a little more than usual.”
“Usual? Does it pop like that often?”
“More than it should.”
“Winston, you have to go get it looked at. You cannot live your life this way. It’s just not realistic. It makes zero sense to me why you feel this insane need to take care of me and not yourself too.”
He sneers. “Because I don’t want to be a slave to the medical system.”
“Well tough!” I bellow. “Fucking tough. You don’t always get to do what you want to do. You buckle up and act like a goddamn grown-up. Do you think I wanted to raise myself? Do you think I wanted to have to learn how to pay bills when I was ten so we would have water and electricity because I was tired of going to school dirty and getting made fun of? Do you think I wanted to starve for days so we could save a little extra cash at the end of the week to float us by until payday just in case something came up? Do you think I wanted to get pregnant by some douchebag and raise a baby alone? No, Winston! I didn’t want any of that shit, but it’s what life handed me. So, I pulled up my britches and made fucking do.” I sigh. “That’s what being a grown-up is—being responsible especially when you don’t want to.”
He stares at me, eyes full of pity and sorrow.
Maybe even a little acceptance.
“I don’t want to be a grown-up,” he says quietly, his voice rough like he’s trying to choke back emotion.
I laugh softly. “It’s funny—we want to grow up so fast when we’re young, want to get to do all the things we can’t as children, but no one ever warns you how exhausting it is to be older.”
“So exhausting. I’m tired all the time.”
“Me too. Can I ask you something though?”
“I mean, I’m not really in a position to run away from you right now.”
“True.” Don’t look at his dick. Don’t look at his dick.
“It’s okay to look at my dick, Drew. I know you want to.”
I try to roll my eyes and be annoyed, but instead I smile. “Shut up. Did you actually finish physical therapy?”
“Sure did.”
I narrow my eyes, because there’s something in the way he says it. It’s…off.
“Winston…were you ready to finish it? Truly ready? Or did you just give up because things weren’t happening as fast as you would have liked?”
“I could use my camera again. It’s all the therapy I need.”
“And the weed.”
His lips twist, like he has something to say but doesn’t want to say it.
“What?” I push.
“I actually haven’t smoked since I said those…unkind things to you.”
“Unkind? You mean cruel? Harsh? Wicked? Ruthless?”
His thick brows slam down. “What are you, a thesaurus?”
“I’m just stating the truth.”
He grumbles something I can’t make out then says, “Can you just come in here with me? It’s cold as fuck with the curtain open and I’d rather we be on even ground than have you standing there judging me.”
I raise my brows at him.
“No funny business,” he promises.
“For the record,” I say, pulling my camisole over my head and shimmying my undies down my legs, “I wasn’t judging you.”
He curls an arm around my waist once I’m inside the tub, yanking me to him until we’re plastered together.
He stares down at me, his eyes darting between my lips and my eyes, mouth moving closer to mine by the second.
Licking my lips in anticipation, I want nothing more than for him to kiss me in this moment.
But at the last instant, he goes left, locking his other arm around me, burrowing his face into the crook of my neck.
He’s hugging me.
His grip is tight. Hard.
It feels like so much more than a hug.
Like he’ll never let me go.
I weave my arms around him, holding him to me like I never want him to let me go.
“I’m sorry. I know you hate it when I say that because you think I don’t mean it, but I do. I’m just…I don’t know. I’m scared.”
“Of what, Winston?”
“What if something is reall
y wrong with me? What if they can’t fix my body? What if I’m just supposed to be this way now? What if one day I wake up and can’t even lift my camera?”
“I don’t believe that’ll happen.”
“The therapy didn’t work before, so it could.”
“Did you really put in the effort? Or did you just give up when it wasn’t fixed right away?” I ask again, because he didn’t give me a straight answer before.
His eyes dart to the side. Then he takes a breath, like he needs courage to speak again.
“I gave up,” he admits, voice full of remorse and resentment.
“Then don’t give up. Go back. See what they can do. Maybe you don’t have to live like this.”
“What if I do?”
“Then we’ll figure it out.”
We don’t say anything for a while, just stand here under the water, letting it rain down on us, holding each other, being together.
“You said we,” Winston mutters after several minutes.
I gulp. “I did.”
I feel him smile against me. “It’s because I can eat a mean pussy, isn’t it?”
“Winston!” I try to pull away, smacking at him, but he doesn’t let me get far.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
He pulls me back into him, grabbing my chin and holding me still. He peers down at me, eyes full of appreciation and something I can’t quite place.
“Thank you, Drew.”
“Don’t thank me yet…”
I drop to my knees.
“Oh, hell yes,” he says, not even trying to hide his excitement as he leans against the wall in anticipation.
I can’t help but laugh at him.
“Oh, sorry, I was just grabbing this bottle of shampoo you dropped.” I stand, holding a bottle I obviously plucked from its perfectly safe spot on the shelf. “Saved your life. Now you can thank me.”
He pushes off the wall, looking sour at my fake-out. “You’re evil.”
“What?” I blink innocently. “Oh…” I put one hand to my throat. “Did you think I was gonna give you a blow job?”
His eyes narrow into slits. “You knew what you were doing.”
“You know, you should really think of upgrading your shower. Maybe get one of those fancy standup ones with a blow job bench. We could get some good use out of it.”
He sputters, laughing hard. “You know that’s not what it’s called, right?”
“Come on. Nobody uses those things for anything other than blow jobs or oral. That’s just not practical at all. It’s absurd. Downright moronic.”
I Knead You Tonight Page 14